


According to Plan

by InkSkratches



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, horn play, pepperoni is a powerful aphrodisiac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSkratches/pseuds/InkSkratches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to plan intimacy when dealing with humans and their idiotic films and mysteriously sexy cuisine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

> A short companion piece to one of Kinomatika's EriJohn works on Tumblr. She spoils us all with her fantastic art.

If Eridan could have planned it better, he would have. 

In fact, he had been planning it for quite some time now. Mentally setting the stage for when and where they would finally become intimate. Dealing with alien cultures was a tricky business, after all, and he had been caught with his pants down too many times already. One of which had been quite literal. That had at least gotten the embarrassing issue of differences below the waistline out of the way. (There were few.) 

And so Eridan had wanted a much more controlled and carefully crafted setting for their next intimate encounter. Perhaps something after a romantic dinner at one of Earth’s various eateries (because hell if Eridan had learned the finer points of human cuisine with its preponderance of vegetables and spices and other wholly superfluous additives), after which they would retire to the “house” as he’d learned to call it, loosen their ties over a few after-dinner drinks, and then retreat to the bed. Once there, they would disrobe each other in an appropriately erotic fashion, and Eridan would take John’s hand and lead him through the finer points of bucket filling. He had taken it upon himself to research both human and troll mating rituals, being the acting authority on neither practice, and had devised a suitable compromise. He would explain it sensually, and John would give him that startled look that he always had whenever the subject of anything beyond a bit of grinding and mutual touching was broached. And then his expression would melt into a pleased blush behind those square frames. And they would make beautiful, passionate, and most of all efficient interspecies love.

So of course they ended up having their first time on the living room couch.

He couldn’t remember if it had been the belly full of pizza (stupid erotic Earth food) or the fact that the humans in the movie they’d been watching had started engaging in some weird courtship practice involving animal crackers. But suddenly he was moving closer to John, leaning against his shoulder, running bejeweled fingers through his absurdly soft, cow-licked hair. There had been protests, of course, because the best part of the movie was coming up. But the best part of the movie was always coming up, and Eridan was tired of waiting.

Apparently John was too. Eridan had expected maybe a session of passionate kissing against the throw pillows. Maybe the loss of a sock or two. But John pressed himself so close to Eridan that soon he was sitting in the troll’s lap, his hands cupping Eridan’s face and his thumbs brushing over the edges of his fins. Eridan shivered into the touch, and his hands dipped, pushing up John’s atrocious excuse for a shirt and putting his lips against the middle of that soft, pink chest. And soon his own shirt was gone, and their lips met again, and they were rubbing, sliding their hips together as Eridan was pushed deeper into the couch cushions.

Eridan swore up and down that humans planted fucking pheromones in those diabolical red discs called pepperoni.

He could hardly complain though. Not until John’s fingers reached higher, climbing up his scalp before hooking around his horns. It was an innocent enough gesture. They were the ideal thing to grab onto for purchase in deepening a kiss. But neither of them had been expecting the surprised yelp that bubbled from Eridan’s mouth, or the accompanying violet blush.

It was about then that Eridan remembered exactly why he’d wanted to plan the goddamn encounter in the first place.

He was such shit at dealing with surprises.

“Oh jeez, did I hurt you?” John’s face was flushed that bright shade of red that Eridan had found so unsettling at first. That was before he’d decided that it was actually the best sort of hue that could ever appear on those pink cheeks. It served to set an even hotter blaze in his gut, gluing his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

John released the horns and looked concerned for a moment before a noise from the TV drew his attention back to the movie. There, a team of humans was walking in a line while wearing bright orange jumpsuits. John gave a sigh with his whole body.

“Bruce Willis is just so cool here. He is going into space to save the world. Nobody thinks he can be a hero because he’s just an oil rig manager, but he’s going to drill a hole right into everyone’s hearts. And also that really huge asteroid.”

The jealousy Eridan felt over Bruce Willis and his silly orange space suit and preposterous drills was enough to unstick his tongue.

“You didn’t hurt me, John, like you could ever manage to damage my exterior with your puny human nubs, I mean please, let’s be fuckin’ serious here for a minute.”

To his relief, John shifted his gaze back to him. It was not always easy to recapture the boy’s attention, especially not when movies were involved. But once he had it, he found his nerve curdling in his stomach as those blue eyes roved over him.

“Oh, so…what was the little yell for then? Can you actually feel things with your horns? Are they like alien probes or something?”

That was when Eridan also remembered why he was such shit at dealing with surprises. Because John could ask such absurd questions with all the seriousness of a physician discussing terminal illness while sitting half-naked on his lap. And it was enough to make Eridan want to give up all hope of ever being romantic and successfully mating ever.

He put his head against the boy’s chest and groaned.

“Oh, did I say something bad again?” John asked. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to. I just forget sometimes how many things are culturally different between us.”

Eridan replied with another groan.

“If they’re not probes, what are they?” He threw his gaze to the ceiling as he pondered the situation. “Maybe they’re like the horns that Howie Mandel has in Little Monsters, even though he doesn’t mention them too much until one gets broken off. But that whole ordeal looked pretty painful.”

“John, I have no idea what you’re goin’ on about because I have never seen that movie.”

John blinked back down at him. “You haven’t? Oh, we should definitely watch that one after Armageddon, even if it’s not as good. It still has lots of great moments and Howie Mandel teaches Fred Savage to be a pretty effective prankster.”

“Can we please leave the movies out of this for once, John, I am havin’ a fuckin’ crisis here.”

John frowned, concerned. “What’s the crisis? Is it about your horns?”

“Yes, John, it is about my horns, like, this has not been a topic that’s changed despite your best fuckin’ efforts to do so with all your random film references.”

“Well, I’m just trying to understand them in an Earth way.” He surveyed the jagged orange protrusions again. “Would you like it better if I kept my hands off them?”

The violet blush was back, and Eridan wished that they could maybe return to talking about stupid human movies.

“Not…necessarily…” he finally managed.

“Oh, so…you like it?” The red spots on his cheeks were returning.

Eridan nodded and put his face back against John’s chest. They sat that way for a while before he felt a pair of hands slide up his shoulders and neck, over his finned ears, and through his hair before settling at the base of his horns. He tensed against the boy as his entire neck was paralyzed by a shower of tingles. The room was silent around them aside from the dramatic yelling of crew members from the television. But all Eridan could hear was their breathing. All he could smell was the garlic and the warm salty scent of John’s flesh. He placed a kiss on his soft pink chest before the thumbs resting on his horns began tracing small circles over the hard orange surface. He responded with a shuddering groan, and the pressure increased. John leaned closer to him, and Eridan could feel a puff of hot breath against his forehead as an uncertain voice floated into his ears.

“Oh wow. They’re really sensitive, huh?”

He could barely move his head enough to manage a nod. Instead he just gave a pathetic wobbling sound in response. And as John gripped his horns and began to administer long, slow strokes, he found himself dissolving in those pink palms.

And suddenly it didn’t matter so much that none of it had gone according to plan.


End file.
